


a man's gotta eat

by asexuelf



Category: Dragon Age II
Genre: Awkward Fenris (Dragon Age), Elves, Fantastic Racism, Humor, Merrill Being Merrill (Dragon Age), Multi, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Poverty, Prostitution, Sex Work, people are complicated
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-25
Updated: 2021-01-25
Packaged: 2021-03-17 17:28:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,006
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28978176
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/asexuelf/pseuds/asexuelf
Summary: With Hawke, Varric, Aveline, and Isabela on the Deep Roads expedition, Fenris is running low on coin with few people to gamble it from. Luckily, he hears from Merrill that the madame of the Blooming Rose is looking for a pretty elven replacement.
Relationships: Fenris/Original Character(s)
Comments: 1
Kudos: 12





	a man's gotta eat

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is one of those fics i have big plans for but little time for, but it's still such a fun idea and i'm still so proud of the quality of this first bit, so i'm gonna try to squeeze out chapters once every while anywho. it's even my first thing posted in 2021, just to give me that kick in the ass xD
> 
> i hope you enjoy!

Fenris looked down at the three copper bits in his hand in distaste. They shined back at him (rudely, in his opinion), although one of them had lost most of whatever luster it once had. It wasn't the dullness that bothered him or even the light which glinted against the bronze seemingly just to irritate his eyes. What earned his ire was entirely himself - and his new group of… _friends_. Hawke, especially.

Just before Hawke went and took the few people in this city he was comfortable talking to into the _blighted Deep Roads,_ she had to take all his money, too. Through fair means, of course, if one considered gambling fair, but _fair_ didn’t make the three copper he had left any better at filling his belly. Hawke had said they (being herself, the dwarf, Isabela, and Aveline) would only be gone a few weeks at most, but to talk to Anders or Merrill if he needed anything.

 _Anders or Merrill?_ There must have been something in the Hanged Man’s ale. Hawke was not always the best acquainted with common sense, but even she had to have known Fenris would do no such thing. To bare his neck to another blood mage - or abomination! Bah!

But, only three copper… He shifted his hand, watching the light round itself on the side of the coins. This hardly constituted three weeks worth of meals.

For all his practice in hunger, Fenris’ stomach still growled.

With a heavy sigh, he dropped the coins into his belt and made to strap his sword to his back. It may not earn him much, but he had to try.

So off he was, sneaking out the rear side of his stolen mansion to stalk off towards Lowtown - perhaps even the Alienage, if the price demanded it and his pride allowed it. On his trek, the scent of Hightown’s expensive meats and pastries made his mouth water, but the three bits jingling in their pouch kept him on his way to lesser-quality goods.

The Lowtown market was less noisy than that of Hightown, something he always found himself grateful of as he made his way down the stairs, but it was also more crowded. The folk in Hightown needed to be seen, even in their meager numbers; those in Lowtown were used to being unheard. There were more elves here, too, and although Fenris towered over them, they were far less likely to call him a knife-ear than any of the fools upstairs. _Flat-ear,_ perhaps, but usually only from old, bitter men and new, angry teens. 

For all the strange and conflicting feelings Fenris felt for his fellow elf, the Dalish in the Alienage saw none of his ire - nor he theirs. They knew that they were "flat-ears" too.

When Fenris finally reached his destination, sweating slightly under the arms from the trek, he slowed, shifting his weight from foot to foot on the sun-warmed stone. He shopped only rarely, preferring to keep himself scarce, so was uncertain where to begin. All around him were stalls and shops hawking all kinds of wares, from clothing to books to children's toys to weaponry. Mostly weaponry. And - importantly - _food._

There were hogs hanging from the tops of stalls, fish laid out on frost-runed stone, all shades of cheeses in all manner of circles, squares, and triangles, and so many more fruits and vegetables than he was aware Kirkwall ever saw. For all the sweets and candies of Hightown, Lowtown seemed more suited for the regular Kirkwaller's diet.

High, hopeful voices caught Fenris' ear and he turned. A couple of elvhen girls haggled beneath a bright red tarp with one of the nearby sellers for a lower price, their hands clasped together and painted eyes pleading, but the woman just sighed.

“I need to eat too, loves. Dress is a silver. Sorry.”

As good a place to start as any.

The girls walked away sullenly and both the seller and Fenris watched them go. The sorry look in the seller’s grey eyes made Fenris feel confident that she wouldn’t overcharge him because of his race, unlike some others, and he stepped towards her to peruse her goods. Mostly food, he was happy to see, and a small number of other goods besides - a few articles of clothing that looked second-hand (including a dress with blue skirts) and an old knife that, based on the engravings, was likely of sentimental value.

“Shit, you’re a tall one,” the woman said somewhat boredly, easily blinking away her previous sympathy into a professional nonchalance. She tucked her silver-streaked hair behind one rounded ear before leaning forward on her palms. “Looking for anything specific, serrah elf?”

In front of him were glistening red apples, sturdy loaves of bread, and an array of white and yellow cheeses. Even just looking at them made his mouth water, hunger gnawing at him so suddenly it shocked him. He wished, suddenly, that she had been more lenient with the girls and thus more lenient with him.

But the woman's eyes were stern at the edges, so he pointed with the talon of his gauntlet, unwilling to pick anything up and risk paying for it. “Food. How much are you charging?”

He could afford an apple, if he chose one of the bruised or browning ones, but only one. Although three coppers for an apple felt ridiculous, he wasn't actually certain the normal price, so he didn't bother haggling. As it was, he was leaning towards bread - only a copper per loaf. It was no big secret bread this cheap was made with sawdust, but he’d eaten worse in the hopes of survival, regardless of Anders’ impassioned ramblings against it.

Timbre is likely only dangerous to the human stomach, anyway, Fenris thought. If the Dalish can bite down bark and bugs then his own gruel-trained stomach could manage it, too. This bread would last him longer, if he were unable to find work - and he was certain it would be difficult to. Taking the sort of jobs he did with Hawke would be suicide on his own, especially in a slaver-infested city like Kirkwall. And for an elf - especially a foreign one - _especially_ after a Blight - finding work otherwise would be near impossible.

And he wasn’t about to work the docks even if there was an opening. So many fish, giving off such a strong smell… _Blegh._ He’d rather just starve. Or, as it were, choke down sawdust.

He handed the seller his little money and turned away with his bread. Before he could even so much as take a step away from the stand, he heard a voice call out to him that made him consider phasing straight through the ground and into the Undercity.

But, no. The smell of Darktown beat out Merrill for greatest annoyance by a longshot. And Fenris could admit that of the two, he found Merrill more companionable than Anders. A bloodmage she may be, smiling and scurrying towards him through a crowd of people who _oof-_ ed as she pretended not to shove them, but at least she was kind. Well, usually kind. She was the only blood mage Fenris had ever met who bled herself instead of others. That had to mean something - even he would concede to that. Still… One does not survive by ignoring danger just because it smiles at him.

When she finally reached him, she was panting.

“Hello, Merrill,” Fenris said awkwardly. It came out more a growl and he bit the inside of his cheek in shame.

Unoffended, Merrill smiled just as awkwardly in return. She seemed unpracticed at it - like it made her uncomfortable, even though she _wanted_ to smile.

“Hello, Fenris!" she breathed. "It’s good to see you. Sorry, I know we aren’t on the best of terms and you don’t really like me and all but without Hawke or Isabela or Varric here, well, it’s a bit lonely and seeing a familiar face in this place is so nice and-”

“I understand." Fasta vas, the girl could ramble. "I did not realize how much time I spent with them until spending these past few days alone.”

Perking up like a spring, Merrill nodded. “Exactly! I spend time with some of the nice people in the Alienage, mind, but it’s not quite the same as being with friends. If I can call you that, I mean.”

Guilt tugged at his gut again, aided only by his hunger, so Fenris shrugged noncommittally and nodded, unsure of what to say. It was easier to hate Merrill when she wasn’t around.

A long sigh left Merrill. He wasn't sure what it meant, but he wouldn't call it relief. “Well, good… I know we disagree, Fenris, but I think you’re really quite nice.”

“Oh. I-" He blinked in surprise. "Thank you. Despite my fears, you have been kind to me, and I am grateful.”

For that, the smile Merrill gave him was blinding and honest. “What a silly thing to be grateful for! Of course I’m going to be kind to you.” She pushed the hair out of her face to avoid meeting his gaze. She seemed to be wearing less braids than usual, Fenris suddenly noticed, and there were dark circles under her eyes. “Oh, but I think we’re holding up the marketplace. I hate to be in the way…”

“Ah,” And if Fenris wasn’t grateful for the excuse to leave as well, then he was grateful for nothing. “Then I will take my leave. Benefaris, witc- Merrill.”

Merrill’s face fell a bit, though she tried to hide it. She was very good at hiding it, which made Fenris swallow around his tongue.

“You’re always welcome back at mine--" She said. "--if you’d like to keep talking. Bit of a mess at the moment, but that’s more clutter than dirt, I think, all those books lying around-”

“I’m afraid I have yet to eat,” he interrupted. He swallowed again. “And then I must look for work.”

That seemed to concern Merrill. She chewed her bottom lip and nodded, looking thoughtful. “Well, some of the folk in the Alienage pay a bit for little things, like helping repair a table or mend a pant leg, but they’re a bit strange about outsiders… Not to say you wouldn't belong there if you wanted to, I only- Sorry. Moving on.”

At least Merrill would not go hungry these coming days, then. The people -- _their_ people -- would take care of her. Fenris ignored the strange way his chest turned over.

"The docks wouldn't work, would they? They aren't hiring Fereldans _or_ elves anymore…" Like a little strike of lightning, Merrill shot up again, finger pointed suddenly to the sky. “Oh! But I did hear that they’re hiring at the Blooming Rose. Although, um. Well, Fenris, I don’t imagine they’re hiring guards.”

The Blooming Rose… The whorehouse in the Red Lantern district, wasn't it? That was only so far from his makeshift home. The journey would be less dangerous than fighting bandits on his own, for certain, as well as the work itself, so long as he could keep from catching ill. And although there weren't any guards or bouncers hired there, his lyrium would likely work well enough if anyone sought to harm him.

And he was already trained in the acts, wasn't he?

Fenris looked down at the loaves of stale bread he’d purchased, one in each hand and another pointing up out of his belt. Comically phallic and terribly fitting. If the Maker spoke through signs, He was a bit of an ass about it.

“Thank you, Merrill.” He nodded his head to her, suddenly embarrassed. His ears twitched despite himself, but thankfully, she said nothing. “I will keep that in mind. And..." _Kaffas._ "Have you need of anything, you are welcome to visit me. It’s safer to enter through the back.”

The smile on Merrill’s face is almost worth the trepidation he felt at inviting a _blood mage_ into his place of rest.

Almost.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you for reading 💕


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